We've all been there, stuck on a plane, cornered at a party, being verbally attacked for the lowest form of communication: small talk.
These conversations are somewhat scripted but without substance, and for the person receiving them, they are often a burden. It feels like a way for someone who has little to say to feel better by filling a void. In reality, they are often creating a bigger one.
This inevitable and often outdated form of talk may no longer be applicable in today's society. Its proper nomenclature, “phatic communication,” was coined by anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski in 1923 and was essentially created to label how we avoid those awkward silences. More than a hundred years later, it is time to say goodbye to this void of connection.
In a world where people communicate more through electronic devices than in person, it's nice to be greeted with a “good morning” or “how are you doing?” I'm all for acknowledging the other humans around you. But would it be so bad if we stopped there? For introverts, it's particularly heartbreaking, and those on the spectrum often find these types of conversations confusing and challenging.
As for Generation Z, it literally makes them anxious, like 75% now report Feeling uncomfortable with colder conversations between coworkers. What was once commonplace for one generation is a form of torture for another.
When someone asks, “Any fun plans for this weekend?” I struggle for the right answer. If I have nothing to do, I feel ashamed. If I have something great, it feels like bragging. How is this a standard icebreaker?
This anxiety is only exacerbated during the holiday season, when small talk seems to multiply exponentially at work parties and family gatherings with people you see twice a year. Before the break everyone wishes me a “Merry Christmas,” even though I am Jewish. Then when I come back after vacation, it's Armageddon.
“How was your New Year?” or some version of it is uttered by at least 20 colleagues before I even sit down. After a while, I just don't know how to respond. I am exhausted from repeating myself and exhausted from thinking of expressions, smiling and responding in the same way. Do they even care? Or are they all on autopilot, throwing out questions when they are in no way interested in the answer?
The worst contender is in the elevator: you are trapped. Someone will inevitably feel the need to say something and you will have to endure their line of questioning until they reach your apartment. The situation has gotten so bad that I now frequently climb the stairs. At least I take my steps.
Small talk is meant to work as an entry into broader conversations, but most simply stay familiar and do not risk delving deeper into the dialogues. I'm more in favor of medium or large conversations, conversations about things that matter. Let's not stop at introductory questions and jokes. Instead of just asking me what the job is like, ask about something you know about me. Wow! And I promise to respond with something unique or thought-provoking. We will create discussion. Be real. But still, never in an elevator.
While it's important to engage with others, I'm no longer convinced that pre-made questions are the best way to do it. I propose that we think of new phrases or ways for people to pass the time. Small talk is today's predictive text, often inaccurate and causing more trouble than it's worth. It's like an in-person approval emoji that has become the norm. A weather app will tell me if it's going to rain, but a person with an original idea… it's worth talking about.
Last week I took a quick walk during lunch and found myself in front of 40 acres and a muleSpike Lee's Brooklyn-based film company. There was the director, sitting in a bright orange shirt with a half smile. I was nervous.
I wanted to say something, anything, to a man I deeply admire. Dare I state the obvious? “How about the Knicks? Knicks in five!” Instead, I became more vulnerable.
“Spike,” I said, as if we were best friends, “we actually knew each other before.”
I told him about our first connection at a book signing a few years ago and how I taught at his alma mater. Then we discussed the changes in the neighborhood.
We were there, in the middle of Brooklyn, tackling everything from education to gentrification to just conservation. In the end we were two people talking. As I walked away, the last thing he said was, “Thank you for doing what you do.” It was full.
We would never have had that face to face if I had asked him about the weather.
Elana Rabinowitz teaches English as a second language and is a freelance writer. His work has appeared in the New York Times, the Washington Post, CNN and elsewhere.
